One nagging paranoia I have as an American overseas is that every time I open my mouth, it feels like any number of self-congratulatory statements fall out. It's not that I'm completely self-centered and feel the need to advertise how "awesome" my life is - it's just that to fill in the awkward silences I'll often go to a comfortable subject: Me. As one British acquaintance put in nicely back in San Francisco: In America, the conversation is all about "me" and in Britain, it's all about "you". And "you", essentially, are always a more intriguing subject and I say this as a people-person, a writer, and a lifelong learner. So why do I revert to the subject of "me" and at a louder volume than what is acceptable in the Old World.

Paul Bunyan and his Blue Ox in Klamath, California Trees of Mystery site. Paul Bunyan is a lumberjack figure in North American folklore and tradition. One of the most famous and popular North American folklore heroes, he is usually described as a giant as well as a lumberjack of unusual skill, and is often accompanied in stories by his animal companion, Babe the Blue Ox. Original image from Carol M. Highsmith’s America. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel. Public Domain

Asking about "you" is always good manners but California convinced me otherwise. In the Golden State I would semi-frequently get suspicious looks if I inquired about someone too soon in an exchange - almost as if I was trying to steal their identity. Back in Boston, it was different. I knew the chummy codes. The Irish and Irish-Americans are known for being warm and familiar (perhaps slightly nosy); we love to place people biographically and are usually up for a chat. I remember the tremendous relief I felt when someone in California took a moment of interest in me and asked some questions as to my background. I almost felt like hugging them.

Perhaps the culture in San Francisco plays it safe; to be politically correct and insist on strong boundaries, for it's a place with a lot of drifters and people who are ambitious and have a tech-intelligence with all its social awkwardness. Instead of having to learn the latest twisty rule in San Francisco political correctness, sometimes it's best not to ask anybody of anything. Oh, I had my punk-rock dogwalking community, complete with personal jabs and dirty jokes. But with strangers it was different. In San Francisco it was very rare for someone to meet your gaze when passing you by on the sidewalk. In London and Boston, it just seems like common decency, a bit of shared connection, especially when there are few other people around. That San Francisco disregard bothered me to no end.

The Transamerica Pyramid is the tallest skyscraper in the San Francisco skyline and one of its most iconic. Although the building no longer houses the headquarters of the Transamerica Corporation, it is still strongly associated with the company and is depicted in the company's logo. Designed by architect William Pereira and built by Hathaway Dinwiddie Construction Company, at 260 m (850 ft), upon completion in 1972 it was among the five tallest buildings in the world. Columbus Tower, also known as the Sentinel Building is a mixed-used building in San Francisco, California completed in 1907. Original image from Carol M. Highsmith’s America. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel. Public Domain.

London, too, has its reserved moments but I've made some dear friends in my Master's program. Of course, in lockdown, it's been difficult to make new friends but surprisingly several people have given me their mobile numbers at the tail end of the first encounter. Still, there has to be some sort of sensible breaking of the ice - one can't just start in immediately on Camus or how toxic masculinity is just misdirected grief. So I've developed a list of the safest subjects in any country with strangers, acquaintances, even family members of a different political stripe. The four safe subjects are as follows:

1.) the weather (okay so not super-imaginative but there's a lot you can build on here);

2.) films, books, and television (just prepared to be shocked at the different taste levels);

3.) travel and vacations (my favorite - although probably not the best when chatting with the boss at a new job);

4.) the dog by a stranger's side or the birds in the trees. Dogs are the better ice-breakers though - talking about the birds may seem a little flighty (no pun intended).

Illustration of midsummer eve from The Costume of Yorkshire (1814) by George Walker (1781-1856). Original from The New York Public Library. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel. Public Domain.

As a presence in public, The Londoner is cool, reserved, and respectful. As the pandemic has dragged on, I've found my courage more and more in approaching an individual and making the first move in conversation. But be warned, once the floodgates are open, it's hard to even slip in an utterance of agreement with the English. I still stumble on some terms or references that the Brits use but do my best to at least slip in a joke (the drier the better). These conversational patterns seem to manifest regardless of age, background, skin color, or class. I find that the vast majority of the British know how to behave and are happy for a chat.

One thing that is not acceptable is a robust and hearty laughter in a public setting. The Brits and most other Europeans consider it vulgar. Try an experiment next time you are on Netflix: check out either a British or American comedian performing in front of a British audience and notice the staccato waves of laughter from the audience when the comedian lands a joke. There could be several titters of laughter throughout the set but each fit is short-lived. And then compare it to an American audience who try to outdo one another in enjoyment.

Waterloo Bridge, Sunlight Effect (1903) by Claude Monet. Original from the Art Institute of Chicago. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel. Public Domain.

Lastly, the average Brit has an exceptional vocabulary. They regularly pepper their conversations with words like shambolic, innocuous, riveting, scheme and devolution. Even their common adjectives have a shine to them: instead of nice, awesome or perfect (overused American terms that need to start collecting their social security), the Brits use words like lovely, brilliant, and splendid. The Irish even have a favorite go-to: grand. The vocabulary level alone is one of the reasons we may stay here indefinitely; it's like a bubble bath for the mind.